


Lifehacks! How To Get Unlimited Stardust For Talismans For Free!

by Hino



Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: It's good porn though I'm allowed to have this, It's more joke porn than anything but still please read it, It's porn, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 03:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13825443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: Are you running out of Stardust? Can't wait until Falcon Ron restocks?Tariq has just the trick.





	Lifehacks! How To Get Unlimited Stardust For Talismans For Free!

It was a quiet night in the Moonlight Alcove. The Stars were gone, and the Rites were in a lull, giving the Exiles time to relax, to contemplate, and to think about whatever Enlightenment truly meant.

It also left them all with much time for their Vocations, and the Reader had taken advantage of this. The Book of Rites sat in their lap, and beside them on the grassy floor were scattered notes, little pieces of lore that they did not fully understand, or wished to discuss with either Volfred or Tariq.

Idly, the Reader let their thoughts wander, taking mental stock of the blackwagon’s inventory. They had only two pouches of Stardust left, and a large amount of Talismans, both gathered from the various little nooks and crannies of the Downside, and bought from Falcon Ron with excess Sol gifted by the eager Imps who watched the Rites from above. Softly, they mumbled about the lack of Stardust, for Falcon Ron had run short, and the waters near the Hulk of Ores bore none of the substance. They’d spent time snooping around the Scribe Statues atop Mount Alodiel, in hopes of scavenging some left in offering from other Triumvirates, or seeing if the Scribes themselves had left any as an offering, but it all had come up short.

 

“Something wrong?”  
Tariq’s voice cut through their internal argument, soft and gentle, soothing. The Reader suspected that he had some kind of magic, or blessing from the Scribes. There was no normal man who could ease their worries without effort, not even Volfred who had such a way with words, that he could sway the entire Triumvirate with a sentence.

Surprised, the Reader looked up, closing the Book of Rites and setting it down beside them. They sighed, rubbing at their forehead as they explained their dilemma. With the Rites coming more often, and the Titan Stars appearing in the sky above, the need to be on top of their game was more pressing than ever. Their Talismans needed to be as strong as they could, but the Stardust shortage could cost them their freedom.

A soft hum came from the Minstrel as he set his lute down beside the Reader’s stack of notes, and the Book of Rites. “There is another way to gather Stardust,” he said, face straight and eyes closed as always. “Although we must go elsewhere.”

The Reader looked up, head tilted. They asked why Tariq had never mentioned this method before, to which he softly laughed. “It is not a very dignified method of gathering.” His response was confusing, but the Reader merely shrugged, getting to their feet and brushing their coat free of dirt. They motioned for Tariq to lead the way, and he did, steps slow but wide, making the Reader keep a brisk pace to not be left behind.

 

The Moonlight Alcove began to fade away behind them as Tariq led the way, stepping along the narrow paths of Mount Alodiel with an expertise and grace that suggested he had trod these paths many times before. Softly, the Reader asked where they were going, to which Tariq said nothing, only raising his hand to point at a small cave in the side of one of Mount Alodiel’s smaller hills. 

“This mountain is the body of the Greater Titan, Archbeast Sung-Gries,” he said, voice gentle yet informative, catching the Reader’s attention. “Over the many long years, nature took over, morphing and twisting the Titan’s body into something else.”  
It was interesting to hear, and the Reader said so, following the Bard into the cave without hesitation. They trusted Tariq, and for someone to be as old as they suspected, they must have been wise enough to know what caves were safe, and what was a mistake.

Inside, little shards of crystal lined the walls, glowing and pulsing. It reminded the Reader of the pieces of Enlightenment they had found when foraging with Rukey, and they resisted the urge to reach out and grab one. “It is strange that a creature that created such havoc could make such beautiful things, don’t you agree?” Tariq turned back to the Reader, who nodded in response. For the corpse of the Archbeast, it was awfully beautiful.

As they travelled further into the cave, it seemed to grow warmer, more comfortable. The chill of Mount Alodiel’s peak ebbed away as the crystal walls lit up the crowded space. A laugh escaped the Reader, and they commented on the mood lighting, but their amusement began to fade as the cave opened up.

It was a crude little room, with a bed and some sheets, accompanied by pillows and a desk covered in parchment. It looked like a well lived in little hiding hole, away from the chill and harsh weather of the mountain. “More than once, the Blackwagon has broken down at the base of the mountain, or atop it, and the Nightwings have needed a place to shelter themselves.”

The Reader hummed, looking over the place. With the crystal’s light, and the general state of the place, messy and unkempt, they thought it looked more like a sex den than a place to hole up for the winter. They said so with a nervous laugh which fell flat when Tariq did not even offer a smile. They tensed.

Oh Scribes...  
This _was_ a sex den.

 

Immediately, the ease they had felt while walking with the Minstrel evaporated, as if absorbed by the crystalline light to fuel the dirty acts performed here. “You asked about Stardust,” Tariq said, taking a seat on the small bed. It was thin, large enough for a Demon, or two Nomads if they stuck close to each other.

The Reader put two and two together immediately, tensing and taking a step back, hands held up before them. Did Tariq expect them to... to jack him off in hopes of acquiring Stardust?

“I feel I must clarify, Reader, that the Stardust that you bought from Falcon Ron does not come from this... method.” Tariq trailed, unsure of how to describe what was about to transpire. “That dust does come from the skies above. This is merely... a backup.”

Contingency Plan was the word Tariq was looking for. The Scribes had planned for the Nightwings to be the best they could, and so they had gifted them the Herald of the Moon, Tariq, the walking Stardust Spank Bank.

 

A silence hung between them. Tariq removed his hat and his cape, while the Reader picked at the fraying strands of their cape. It’s not like Tariq wasn’t attractive, and that he didn’t have some allure, but the Reader wasn’t sure they could look the Minstrel in the mostly-closed eyes again, or if they could look at Talismans the same way again. How would their team feel, if they knew the Faith Stone they clutched tight to their chest was covered in ejaculated Stardust, brought forth from a sexy night on Mount Alodiel.

“I shall not ask you to engage in anything you do not wish to,” the Minstrel said, hands folded in his lap, watching the Reader. His face was still, eyes closed, waiting patiently for a response. The Reader could tell from his body language that he truly was willing to accept no as an answer.

More silence, as the Reader thought. There were benefits to this, and it wasn’t like, well, nobody else in the Blackwagon was willing to give them a chance. Sandra would, but they’d discussed it before, and there was barely anywhere in the Blackwagon to use a glowing, ethereal vibrator without one of the ten occupants finding you.

Alright. The Reader had to admit it was a good idea, and they did have comfort in the fact that Tariq offered. They removed their cloak, slowly, and began to fiddle with their robes. The Reader had weak legs, not built for long walks, although they were working on it, but this situation was making them shake, nervous and uneasy.

“Do not worry Reader, for I've been with less experienced people, I'm sure.” It was an attempt at a joke, and although it missed the mark, the Reader at least had the courtesy to laugh, now fully nude, clothes beside them on the ground.

 

The Reader had to admit they were not the most beautiful person in the Downside, for that had gone to the Nomad they met in the depths of Wakingwood, but from the look that Tariq gave them, they must have been something. Softly, he looked over them, while removing his own clothes, folding them neatly, absentmindedly, as he took in the little details of the Reader.

Tariq wasn’t anything to laugh at either. Despite the fact he was rarely seen doing anything but lurking mysteriously in the blackwagon, gazing longingly at the Book of Rites, or strumming his lute, the Minstrel had an alright body. His skin was pale, porcelain white, and very faint abs seemed to show, as if on the cusp of working out, but not quite there. His eyes, now open and glowing, contrastes his pale skin, yellow beacons in the dim light of the cave.

Confused, the Reader asked if it had gotten darker, but Tariq had no answer, now fully nude. The crystals seemed to be dimmer, but the Reader had no time to focus, as they were beckoned towards the shoddy bed.

 

It was remarkably soft, despite the age of the place. Fit for a king, as the Reader softly mumbled.

“Soft enough for an Archjustice,” came Tariq’s response. They softly laughed in response. Kings had not existed for millenia, phased out by Emperors and later, Archjustices. “Now, shall I aid you?”

The Reader shook their head defiantly. They most certainly did not need help giving a handjob. They were expertly skilled in the act of grabbing someone’s penis and working it until they ejaculated Stardust, which was to be scraped onto some paper and hoarded like a rare artifact, only to be whipped out in special occasions.

Tariq snickered, although he did try to be discreet, hiding his smile behind his hand. “Perhaps I should help you to start.” He cupped their cheek softly, leaning in close to press a kiss to their neck. The sensation sent tingles up their spine and they tensed, causing the Minstrel to stop. He waited, patiently, not daring to make another move until the Reader had calmed, moving a hand to the back of the Herald’s head and pushing him back to their neck, fingers knotting in his hair as he continued to pepper kisses and gentle little lovebites to their skin.

Slowly, the Reader began to work up the courage, moving their other hand to gently rest on Tariq’s chest. His skin was cold, but not in the uncomfortable way, like touching ice or making the mistake of licking one of the frozen statues of the Eight Scribes, much like Rukey and the Moontouched Girl had. Instead it was the welcoming chill of a cold sheet on a warm day, refreshing, a contrast to the heat of their body.

 

“Does this please you?” Tariq asked, leaning close to the Reader’s ear. His breath was warm, and a shiver travelled down the weary Reader’s weary back, forcing a soft moan. The hand still tangled in his white locks forced him forward, pressing his face onto their jawline, which he hastily began to kiss, gradually making his way to their mouth. “I assume you are content,” he mumbled between kisses.

In fact, the Reader was more than content. Touch starvation had been something they’d thought about, brought up by Volfred once or twice, but it wasn’t until now that they really believed him. Tariq kissing them had practically opened the floodgates, and all that they could think about was damn, Tariq had some kissing under his belt. They mumbled as such, and the Herald’s laughter made their heart beat just a little bit faster, feeling a flush of warmth wash over them.

Embarrassment? Right now? Really?

 

The only way to deal with embarrassment was to embrace the situation so fully, that you couldn’t take the time to be embarrassed. Taking a breath, they lowered the hand that rested on Tariq sexy, sexy body. It trailed over his abs, which were damn fine for a Celestial Body, and moved to his crotch, fingers wrapping around Tariq’s Stardust Pump. Before, the Reader had said that the Minstrel had kissing under his belt, but that wasn’t the only thing he was keeping under there, given the way their hand could barely wrap around it.

Tariq moaned, voice drawn out and for a moment the Reader had the strangest sense of deja-vu, as if they were once again upon the Sea of Solis, bobbing in the ocean as the Herald of the Moon sung the lore of the land to them. It made the Reader laugh, and in retaliation, Tariq dipped down to place a kiss to their chest, trailing his mouth to their nipple, gently nipping at it.

Nipping the nipple, the Reader laughed, because like hell this was a serious thing. They were getting handsy with the Herald of the Moon, Celestial Being, Bard of the Scribes, in the hopes they could jack him off and collect all his Stardust Semen to rub into the ancient, magical Talismans that they gave to their party members to participate in the Sacred Rites.

It seemed as if Tariq was as nonchalant as the Reader in this situation, given the way he playfully snickered. The Reader had no idea if the Minstrel could Read, not in the same way that all Readers can, but from the way he was acting, it seemed as if he could. “Shall I show you a full moon?” he asked, pulling away from the Reader’s chest to look them in the eyes.

A moment of silence, before the Reader cackled, pressing their forehead against Tariq’s cool chest, body heaving with laughter. Tariq laughed too, cupping the back of their head and gently patting them in some attempt at both comfort and understanding. The mission of jacking the Bard off was momentarily forgotten, lost in the absolutely abysmal humour of the Celestial Entity that had spent 837 years surrounded by people and was so close, yet so far, from telling good jokes.

 

The laughter set the tone for the entire experience. At first, the Reader had been frightened of this, of what it would mean between them and the Minstrel, and what effect that would have later on. Now though, it was clear that Tariq didn’t take any of this seriously, and as long as the Reader wasn’t willing to stress over it, neither was he.

The hand wrapped around Tariq’s Stardust Tube began to stroke and pump, and the Bard threw his head back, letting out a sex yodel that echoed off the walls of the cave and sent the crystals into flux, pulsing with energy. It was overdone, and so obviously put on, that it fed into the Reader’s laughter, leaving them breathless as they struggled to focus on the repetitive jerking motion. More than once they stopped to wrap their arms around their middle, at which point Tariq gently guided them back to his Talisman Creamsicle, trying to remind them of what they were doing.

The yodelling grew louder, fluctuating in pitch, and the Reader sensed that they were about to be the main actor in a Stardust Bukkake. They reached for some nearby paper, keeping Tariq hard and ready, and they shifted so he would finish on the paper, making it easy to fold up and keep for later, when someone needed a bit of Celestial Semen rubbed into a family heirloom.

Snickering, the Reader noted they were ready, and Tariq nodded, calming down considerably. His moans softened into nothing more than gentle panting, and with little more than a grunt, the Bard reached climax, spilling Stardust out onto the paper, the hands of the Reader, and the bed they were currently nude on.

 

“Surely... it shall be enough.” Tariq looked down at the mound of Stardust on the paper. “At least for now.”

A nod from the Reader as they neatly folded the paper up, setting it aside gently. They looked at the Stardust on their hands and giggled, dusting them off into the Minstrel’s white locks. He gasped, grabbing handfuls of his hair only to find the blue dust stuck between the strands. Quickly, he grabbed some from the bed and tossed it at the Reader, who caught a faceful of it.

It was both disgusting and hilarious. The fact that Tariq just could ejaculate this stuff was ridiculous, and knowing what everyone in the Downside did with it just made it that much funnier. The Reader scooped up another handful, and soon it turned into a little impromptu snowball fight, where the snow was replaced with Heraldic Semen. It continued for a little while, until Tariq laid himself down on the raggedy bed and pulled the Reader to lay beside him.

Laying beside someone was kinda nice. It was comforting to have that illusion of romance, and yet, know nothing was complicated by it. The Reader had shared a bed with almost all of the Blackwagon’s occupants at one point in time or another, but they had all kicked or turned in the night, or snored at some point. Even Sandra, who did not have a need for sleep, just glowed ridiculously bright in the middle of the night and filled the Reader’s dreams with complaints about the Eight Scribes and the Sisters of the Arch. “Rest easy,” Tariq soothed. “I shall return us to the wagon soon.”

There was the attempt at some snarky comment, but honestly the Reader didn’t have the energy for it. They were exhausted and comfortable and happy, and it made for the perfect sleepytime recipe, knocking them out harder than one of Hedwyn’s infamous hot chocolates. As they drifted on the edge of consciousness, they tried to ask Tariq how exactly he’d come to make a sex den dedicated to replenishing the Nightwing’s Stardust stock but their tongue felt like lead, and as the concept of a sentence formed, they dropped into the sleeping abyss, dead to the world.

Tariq did check their pulse once or twice to make sure they weren’t really dead. Only fake dead.

 

When the Reader had decided to leave the comfortable dreamscape, pleasantly void of Archjustices, or large oranges masquerading as leaders of the Commonwealth, they found themselves in the comfort of the Blackwagon once more. They were no longer nude, nor covered in Stardust. In fact, they felt as if they had bathed, and their robes had been cleaned before being placed upon their comatose body. Tariq was the main suspect, but given they had just given him a Stardust Spank-Off, it wasn’t like they had any problems with the Minstrel handling their naked form.

Sitting up, they rubbed at their eyes and stretched, feeling better than they had in months. It wasn’t as if the Nightwings were bad company, but there was just something about sleeping on something not made out of hay and wishes that really helped a person’s posture, even if that something was a shitty mattress in a cave on Mount Alodiel. They tried to kick back the covers with their feet, noting that in one particularly aggressive motion, that they’d touched something.

Curiously, they crawled forward, finding a small bundle on the sheets. It was made of paper, and as the Reader unwrapped it, they immediately knew what it was. A soft laugh escaped them, as they stumbled to their feet, re-wrapping the parcel and placing it in their pocket. 

 

Exiting the sleeping quarters, the Reader found the Nightwings, and the Minstrel, gathered around the table.

“You are awake, good.” Hedwyn was already spooning a bowl of breakfast up, handing it over to the Reader as they approached. “We thought you might sleep all morning.”

The Reader shook their head, merely explaining that they were tired after spending all night with Tariq, searching for Stardust among the ruins of Mount Alodiel. Volfred said nothing, simply taking a breath of his pipe while the others all hummed in agreement, taking the answer at face value.

Tariq glanced to the Reader and offered them a smile, eyes closed and face calm. The Reader merely returned the grin, offering a thumbs up. They asked if in the future, Tariq would be willing to help them once again look for more Stardust.

 

He laughed. “Of course.”


End file.
